Hands Cursed With Ice
by MarinasDragon
Summary: Jack Frost. Her old friend. Gone for what she'd thought was good, but now here. She'd known, no matter what she told herself. Jack was real, and he always would be. She'd never stopped believing in him. (Jack x Elsa)


There was something about the cold Elsa had always liked.

Maybe it was the nip of it at the tip of her nose, or the snow it brought to make angels and snow forts and snowdrifts to leap into like piles of autumn leaves.

But once Anna was born, Elsa knew what she loved most about it ‒ sharing the cold with the perfect, beautiful girl her sister was. Letting loose the amazing powers her sister drew from her.

Every sled ride, every snowball fight, every snowman was for her little Anna. Anna was her world.

The night she lost her best friend was the worst of her life, stripping everything she lived for from her in a single moment.

x

The horses' hooves clattered on cobble as Elsa brought her gaze up from the saddle horn. Arendelle surrounded them once again. Somehow in this return trip, although nothing had changed, it seemed colder, darker than when they'd first left to find the trolls.

As her parents dismounted to hurry into the castle, Anna now sleeping peacefully in her mother's arms ‒ even after having as good as lost all her memories of her sister ‒ Elsa could only run along behind, staring at Anna's tiny, pale, freckled face, her perfect hair marred by Elsa's magic ‒ her curse.

As the gates to the palace opened and worried servants came to intercept the king, queen, and the youngest princess, Elsa's steps slowed and stopped at the center of the bridge.

She stared down at her hands as the giant gates closed behind her family and the worried friends that the serving folk were. Everyone was rightly preoccupied with her sister.

_I could have killed her. Anna._

She chewed back a dry sob and collapsed, her hands exploding with snowflakes. She choked and tried to rub the snow away, shove it down. "No, no, _no no no no_…"

"Don't, Snow Princess, it's all right." Two pale hands took hers. She tried to shove away, horrified and knowing she'd frozen this deep-voiced stranger's hands with how out of control she was right now, but the grip didn't lessen. Slowly, realizing that though his hands were cold, no ice crept up the caped arms, Elsa allowed her gaze to creep up to the man's face.

He was more of a boy, really. A teenager, with a brown cape and a long hooked staff he balanced in the crook of his elbow. Electric blue eyes startled her as they, too, travelled upwards to meet hers.

She couldn't hold in the gasp as she took in the hair falling gently over the bright blue. It was white, like hers.

A devilish grin was spreading across his face as he knelt before her, but it softened into a fond, slightly sad smile as he glanced over his shoulder toward the gates. Where Anna had gone.

He turned to her hands, still held in his, and turned them over to examine her palms. A snowflake popped into existence and she winced, prepared for him to flinch away, wanting him to, but he watched, as if fascinated. Like her sister had, but there was something even more focused in his gaze.

Again, she tried to pull away, but he shook his head, an excited smile lighting up his face as he looked up, inviting her to share in what he seemed to believe was amazing magic.

"Princess, this ‒" he closed his hands around hers, curling her fingers around the tiny piece of ice "‒ this is _fun._ This is an amazing gift."

She sniffled, pulling her trembling lip into her mouth. No. It wasn't.

"I'm Jack Frost."

Elsa withdrew her hands, hugging herself as she curled herself into an even tighter ball. _Jack Frost. _The person every once in a while she thought she saw, crouching by the windows, standing at the tower peaks, leaving behind frosty patterns on the roof, decorating the glass with tiny ice crystals. The one who ushered in winter.

One of his hands appeared in her field of vision. He flexed his fingers and allowed them to relax as a spark of ice jumped into the air.

Elsa jumped, grabbing the hand, sure she was dreaming. Sure, Jack Frost left the frost on her windows, but… She needed to see it again. She didn't see the smile grow on his face as again, more slowly, he summoned a flower of frost to blossom in the air before dissolving in a breath of wind.

She reached out to touch it, her own smile of wonder growing unchecked ‒ he was like her, when there was no one like her ‒ but he caught her hand. She looked up at him, excitement flickering across the features of a child already best friends with a magician. He shook a finger at her playfully.

"Ah, ah, ah. Snow Princesses don't get away with not doing any conjuring of their own. I want to see some of your ice too."

Her face crumpled. "But Anna," she murmured.

"It's a gift, not a curse," Jack whispered. "You just need to control it, Snow Princess."

"Princess Elsa?! Good heavens, are you still out here, child? Come in, come in! Everyone's been looking for you." A plump and worried looking bespectacled man was running from the gates, grabbing her arm, standing inside of Jack.

Elsa stared at the white haired boy, who gave her an apologetic look, poorly veiled disappointment and sadness taking over his previously flashing eyes as he stepped back, taking ahold of his staff before launching himself backwards into the air.

The spectacle-wearing servant followed Elsa's slowly widening eyes over his shoulder into the now cloudy and lightly snowing sky, but the princess was seeing something he couldn't.

x

"Psst. Snow Princess!"

Elsa sat up in her bed, searching frantically for the source of the voice ‒ the voice that she knew, from a year ago.

"Jack!" She ran to where he sat, legs crossed, on the window ledge outside her half open window. She pushed it open to grab his arm and yank him inside. He laughed quietly as he stumbled off the windowsill, ducking into the room. "Whoa there, Snow Princess, I'd like to keep my arm, if it's okay with you."

"How do I control it better?" she demanded, staring up at him expectantly.

He sobered, seeing her gloves. "I don't know, Princess. I have fun with my frost, it always seems to want to do whatever I ask it to."

XXX

Elsa's face fell, and Jack felt a rush of worry as she started to sniffle.

"Hey, cheer up, Snow Princess. I know you can do it. Here," he whispered, setting down his staff and crouching in front of her to open his hand, revealing a tiny silver frost fox, which yawned and shook itself, then peered up at Elsa as it hopped off his palm.

She scrubbed away tears with both hands and choked, "I miss Anna."

"Oh, Snow Princess, I know."

He laid his hand on her small, white haired head gently as she cried. The fox sat quietly at the little girl's feet, waiting for the touch of a hand it would never feel as it faded, gently melting into the air as the snow princess sobbed.

x

Jack visited many more times that year, the growing fear that this was the last year he had to speak with his snow princess beginning to take root in his stomach, whispering traitorously every time he left her that this was the final bittersweet visit he'd have, the little snow girl was growing up, losing any stars left in her eyes that her premature growing up hadn't managed to remove. Jack Frost wasn't going to be her imaginary friend for much longer.

The last day of winter that year, he could feel an actual pain in his stomach as he watched her, hanging from the eaves, as she quietly read a book. A thorn stuck in her glove caught on a page and she made a dismayed sound as the paper tore.

Removing the offending glove, she tried to take out the thorn. Suddenly, a rush of ice froze her book and she gasped. Staring at the frozen pages, she dropped the glove and sucked her lower lip into her mouth as she started to shake. Tears began to rush down her face as she silently cried.

He had to leave her be. He hadn't been helping her. He never had been. She needed to be able to move on. His glorifying the very thing she hated most was only hurting her.

It was time to leave Elsa.

XXX

_MANY YEARS LATER_

Elsa carefully pinned up the final braid and smoothed her bangs. She was going to be queen. Today. Without even being able to truly say goodbye to her mother. It felt like stealing the title. She wasn't worthy of it.

She glanced down at her gloves and slowly pulled one off, contemplating her hands. Suddenly, a flash of memory weakened her knees ‒ two equally pale hands holding her bare ones, a white haired boy, a person she'd felt instantly she'd known her whole life, with a mischievous grin and blue eyes that had seen more than they let on. Simply vanishing one day, with no goodbye or explanation, nothing.

She grabbed the edge of the dressing table to steady herself and then threw herself back as the tiny spikes of ice began to explode across the wood. Her glove, her glove, where had it gone?

She yanked it back on and roughly scraped the ice from the table with her now gloved hand, chewing on her lip.

_Conceal, don't feel, don't let it show._ Today wasn't the day to be distracted by old fantasies.

There was no one who had her curse. And in a way, though she'd want to share it with someone, she was glad. She wouldn't wish it upon anyone. And certainly not the laughing, bright eyed boy of her imagination.

She was much too old for pretending having these powers was fun.

XXX

Jack Frost sat on the edge of a frozen kingdom and stared out at the cold sea, running his fingers over the rough wood of his staff thoughtfully as he watched the gentle waves dip and rise. He'd been in this region since fall, and he still kept getting those strange bursts of cold from the south, the kingdom far, far across the ocean ‒ Arendelle.

He'd been in Arendelle at some point, many years ago, when something important happened…something he couldn't quite remember. Something he'd been trying for years to block from his memory ‒ and he'd finally succeeded.

The funny thing was, besides the fact that Arendelle tended to be sunny and warm most of the year, especially now that he avoided it, for some forgotten reason ‒ it was dead in the middle of summer there.

Something wasn't right. And curiosity had been plaguing him since the first prickling of ice on the wind had reached him.

Jack rubbed his neck and glanced back towards the snow-covered kingdom. His job here was done, anyway. His smirk appeared as his grip on the staff tightened and he leapt into the air, speeding toward the kingdom of Arendelle. He was going to have a little more fun than originally planned today.

x

By the time Jack had reached the kingdom, dark had almost fallen. Even with his speed, the space between the two kingdoms was vast.

The ocean's slowly warming climate he'd been observing while flying had abruptly dropped at the coastline, where thick black clouds were beginning to release flurries of pure white snow. Jack came to a halt, hovering just outside of the flight path of the giant flakes, observing the odd weather with some feeling of foreboding. Never in his life had he said no to the idea of a snow day, in any place, at any time, but there was something about these clouds that radiated anger, fear, the opposite of his feelings for his powers.

This wasn't a natural storm. Someone ‒ someone like him ‒ had summoned it. But for all the wrong reasons.

Slowly, cautiously, he reached out to catch a flake in his hand. It settled in the cold of his palm, perfectly intact, and he examined it.

The edges of the tiny piece of ice jutted out sharply, white icicles that ‒ if they'd been made of something other than snow ‒ could have sliced through his palm.

Jack let the snowflake drop, fluttering down to the ice-covered bridges below.

He had to find this ice wielder.

XXX

Dry sobs wracked Elsa's body as she ran across the lake.

She could hear Anna's cries behind her. Why did her sister have to be so gullible? So stubborn? Why couldn't she just have come when Elsa had asked? Keeping her secret from her sister had lost its priority as soon as they had opened the gates. Elsa had known she'd have to tell Anna even when the coronation plans began, years ago. Keeping the secret from the rest of the kingdom was much more important.

But now everyone knew, and everyone feared. Everyone hated her. But no one hated Elsa as much as she hated herself.

Why couldn't she control this? Why was she only a weak conductor? Wasn't magic supposed to be at the beck and call of the magic holder?

Why?

The trees that had been surrounding her for some time now began dropping away, the untouched snow of a enormous mountain rising before her.

Elsa stopped at the base, staring up at the white majesty of the massive work of nature. Taking a shaky breath, she turned to stare back at Arendelle. She was done with her life there. She was done with feeling scared and lonely and worried about others every single second of every single day.

The promise of the snowy mountain beckoned. Elsa closed her eyes for a moment and began walking.

XXX

High above the clouds, Jack sent the wind to part them, looking over the giant white kingdom carefully. Nothing seemed especially out of the ordinary. Passing over the royal palace, he noticed a large group of people gathered in the courtyards. From what he could see, they all seemed very agitated. But he couldn't feel any magic users below.

Drifting onward, Jack surveyed the landscape as the royal city turned to trees and snow. He yawned, and looked up to see the mountain range marking one of the sides of Arendelle. This was slowly becoming increasingly boring. He'd have to find a way to change that.

Suddenly a rush of freezing air hit him, tingling down his spine. He shot upward in surprise and urged the wind to rush him on toward the mountains, feeling excitement take hold again.

At first, he could see no one, and disappointment almost turned him around, but then he spotted it. The tiny dot of a person.

Flying closer, he nervously observed a long violet cape dragging behind the figure. Was this magic user the real deal?

A girl, he realized as he made out braided ‒ _white?_ ‒ hair. And something else, some metal thing toward the front of her head that glinted. Curiously, she didn't hunch or hug herself against the cold breeze, but her steps were slow, downtrodden.

Suddenly, she stopped walking and threw something into the air. He dodged the turquoise glove as it flew towards him and hurriedly tried to find her again.

She was conjuring. A snowman, it turned out. Like his frost creations. But corporeal, solid snow, perfect.

She didn't see the snowman blink, shake his head, or take a few wobbly steps before falling into the snow as she continued, walking faster now, sending long tendrils of snowflakes upward into the air, blowing the snow from her in beautiful glittering patterns. But he did.

He could feel the excitement, the relief, the happiness and hope in the flakes that drifted upward to him.

She was happy. He was more glad than he'd admit for it as he navigated the air as the wind picked up.

The violet cape was caught in the wind. He snatched it from the air, but he couldn't bring his eyes from her and he eventually let the giant piece of fabric be carried on its way as he flew closer, now desperate to see the girl's face. He recognized her, somehow, from somewhere. But he couldn't, he hadn't been here for years. Yet, her name was ‒ was ‒

If he saw her face, he would know.

She'd turned, but it was already too late, she was running on, and now a chasm blocked her way. He almost flew down to try to take her hand and fly her over it (though fat lot of good that would do her if he couldn't actually touch her), but snow exploded from her hands, forming the beginning of a spiky ice bridge, ornate and completely out of his usual scope of ice magic.

He gaped as she set her foot on the bottom step and the snow fluttered away, revealing beautifully cut ice. She ran onward, blasting the flakes aside to reveal the crystalline steps beneath as the bridge blew into existence.

Reaching the top of the bridge, she twirled in a circle and he couldn't hold back his laugh at the giant grin he could just make out.

Then she had stomped and ‒

Jack could only stare in awe as the frozen castle grew from the snow beneath her feet.

Landing at the edge of the floor, he leaned on his staff, mouth open, and watched as she tore what could only be a queen's tiara from her head and threw it away, pulling her hair from its neat pins as she let her dress sprout ice.

Even from behind, he knew she was gorgeous, her shoulders squared, her head held proudly as she strode triumphantly onto the newly created balcony.

As she whirled around and the doors slammed behind her, he could only stand, staring at the magnificence of this woman of ice. Memory slammed into him. A tiny girl, a tame, quiet, scared little Snow Princess. But this wasn't a tiny girl.

He wasn't aware of his slack jaw, or the red gathering high in his cheeks, but the heartbeat thundering in his ears was all too clear.

She, too, stood for a moment, the glow of excitement only now fading from her giant blue eyes, before he realized she was staring right at him, her exhilarated smile fading to something gentler.

"Hello, Jack."

XXX

She knew him.

_Jack Frost._ Her old friend. Gone for what she'd thought was good, but now here. She'd known, no matter what she told herself. Jack was real, and he always would be. She'd never stopped believing in him.

She'd thought of him this morning. After trying to forget her only reprieve, her only friend in the world after losing Anna. As if he could help her maintain control.

But she didn't have to control it anymore. And somehow she felt in more control of it than ever.

There he stood, unchanged, with his staff, his cloak, staring at her with those same blue eyes, his lips parted in surprise.

She stepped closer, cautiously. He was possibly the only one who wouldn't be afraid of her now.

But then her heart dropped as he, too, took a small step ‒ backwards.

Except…he was blushing. Was he blushing? The pink coloring his pale, freckled face seemed unnatural.

Then his jaw was working around unsaid words. Finally he whispered in a cracking voice, "Sn ‒ Prin ‒ Elsa?"

She pressed her lips together against the burning in her eyes at yet another rejection, what could only be fear of her contorting his face, and forced a smile onto her face before giving a queenly nod. "Yes."

Then suddenly, _he_ was walking forward, slowly, step by step, staring at her, until he stopped a few feet away, his expression she could now recognize as if he was disbelieving in her existence.

"You…you can still see me, Snow Pr ‒ Queen?" he croaked.

She nodded, closing the gap, determined ‒ now that she knew he wasn't afraid ‒ that she was no slave to the way things should be. But he was looking at the hands clasped in front of her.

Guardedly, she opened them for him, and now he was taking one in his own, examining her palm the way he'd done all those years ago when her control had begun to disappear. She shivered at the first contact with human skin she'd had in years.

Carefully, staring at him, she summoned a replica of that small frost blossom he'd made for her.

A broken chuckle escaped him and, looking up from the tiny, delicate creation, he smiled at her. "You can see me," he whispered again in wonder.

Gaining courage, she stepped even closer, the flower gathering into a fox. His eyes widened at her closeness and the faint pink left in his cheeks darkened to a red as his eyes darted to her…lips? "Elsa, I, uh…"

She smiled and echoed the finger shaking he'd scolded her with all those years ago. "Jack Frost can't show up years later and let me do all the snow on my own. I want to see your ice too, Jack."

He nervously swallowed. "How about I show you something better, Snow Queen?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"I never took you flying! Come on!" He grabbed her two hands and began running backwards, towards the doors onto the balcony, which flew open as he skipped back, and suddenly he was lifting off the railing, pulling her with him, and she shrieked, half in fear, half in surprised amazement.

Then her grip was slipping on his hands, and she screamed, but he'd already caught her, an arm under both her back and knees, and she grabbed him, flinging her arms around his neck.

XXX

"Hey, hey, I wasn't going to drop you, don't worry," he murmured, feeling her heart beating fast against his. "It's all right…Elsa."

My Snow Queen.

As the mountains whisked by, slowly she regained her courage, peering over his shoulder. When she first saw the perfect white snow of soft mountainsides below, he heard her gasp.

"Impressed?" he grinned, letting the snow she'd summoned fall around them again, cloaking them both in soft flakes. He felt her warm breath in his ear as she laughed softly. "Very."

Turning back to see the front, she rearranged her grip, pressing closer. He must have involuntarily reacted, because a moment later, she whispered, "Why is your heart beating so fast, Jack?"

He slowed. "Just, uh, flying. It's exhilarating, y'know…"

"Oh."

He felt disappointed in himself as he looped around, heading back for her castle as darkness began to fall, the moon peeking out at him from above, as if disapproving of his silence.

He didn't even know what he wanted to say. You're about the most attractive person I've ever seen? I've never been interested in kissing before, but now I think I very much might be?

I'm sorry?

"Elsa, I…" He gently set her down on her balcony as he stepped onto the railing. She stared up at him, waiting.

He rubbed his hand over his hair, unsure of how to say it.

"I apologize for not…telling you that I was leaving. And everything. I wanted to stay. So much."

"I wanted you to stay. Why did you leave?" A simple question asked with a pair of faintly hurt giant blue eyes. The answer had become hard to choke out in a way that didn't make him hate himself.

"I ‒ thought it was best. For…everyone. For you. You'd have stopped seeing me soon enough. Everyone does. They stop believing."

"But I still believe. And I can see you."

"I know. And I'm…unbelievably glad. And I don't even know how or what I want to say, or what I find so extremely beautiful about ‒"

She darted up to press a firm, brief kiss to his lips. He blinked in surprise as she stepped back, smiling. "Goodnight, Jack Frost."

As she stepped into her snow palace, he managed to murmur, "Goodnight, Snow Queen."

* * *

_The beautiful cover can be found by the talented artist, here, on twitter: /Bab119/status/424889895320948737/photo/1_

_The two pictures inspired this story in the first place, so please send the artist lots of love._


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